


Unfold Me

by cherishadamparrish



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9331226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishadamparrish/pseuds/cherishadamparrish
Summary: The entire bedspread was covered in a canvas of rose petals.





	

It was kissing, that turned into touching, that turned into _touching._

“Bedroom,” Adam growled, while Ronan’s lips were latched onto his neck, working up to Adam’s jaw line as they awkwardly bumped around the hallway. Ronan pulled away, admiring his handiwork of bites littered along Adam’s skin, before promptly tugging him in his bedroom. Adam fell back on bed, grabbing the edge of Ronan’s shirt and tugging him down with him before flipping him over so that Ronan was splayed along the bedspread and Adam was hovering overtop.

It was a long while before they fell asleep.

* * *

 

Adam woke up cocooned in the warmth of a heavy blanket and Ronan, who had an arm loosely thrown over Adam’s waist and his face nestled against Adam’s bare chest. Ronan’s lips were slightly parted, soft breaths tickling Adam’s skin every few seconds and he couldn’t help but take the opportunity to stare at Ronan’s downcast features: the way his skin had smoothened, his features relaxed, the ghost of a smile, dark lashes creating shadows over prominent cheekbones.

Ronan was, in all senses of the word, beautiful.

To anyone else, it might’ve seemed strange to describe Ronan, of all people, as soft as the word beautiful, but Adam found that he couldn’t fathom describing him as anything else in this moment. Adam tightened his hold around Ronan, occasionally drawing his finger across Ronan’s skin, feeling the dips and curves and edges. He was so preoccupied with staring at Ronan, committing the moment to memory that he hadn’t even noticed the rest of the state of the bed until his eyes had skated over a single blur of red.

The entire bedspread was _covered_ in a canvas of rose petals.

Adam’s initially bleariness disappeared and he jolted upwards, inadvertently untangling from Ronan, who grumbled at the rude awakening.

“Lynch.”

Ronan’s eyes were squeezed shut in an act of defiance, his face now crammed into his pillow as he mumbled something incomprehensibly.

“ _Lynch._ ” Adam hissed. “Ronan.”

“What?” Ronan groaned. He opened his eyes, taking in their predicament, his face skyrocketing to a bright red. He looked mortified and planted his head into the safe haven of his hands. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Adam’s face burned.

The bed covered in a plethora of rose petals, Ronan’s deep voice haggard with sleep, the soft glow of the sun filtering through the window and painting the room in a dewy gold. It felt overwhelming, in the best way and an indescribable feeling flooded through Adam, threatening to leave him overflowing with it.

“Jesus Christ,” Ronan repeated, his words muffled by his hands.

“So…” Adam said, opting for some sense of normalcy, unable to help the slight quirk of his lips, “did you have a nice sleep?”

Ronan glared at him. “Asshole.”

“That might’ve been more convincing if we weren’t surrounded by a million rose petals that you dreamed up.”

Ronan groaned in embarrassment.

Adam ignored him in favor of sweeping up a pile of rose petals into his hands. They were as soft as velvet, an unruly shade of red that looked almost pink under the offending rays of sun. Adam wasn’t lying when he said that there were a million. It felt like there were. The bed was _covered_ , even though a quarter had fallen to the floor since they had woken up, and the first bizarre thought that had flitted through his mind upon seeing the display was that no one had ever gotten him flowers before.

Trust Ronan Lynch to dispel every preconceived notion Adam had had prior to what he thought dating would be like. 

Adam flicked a petal at Ronan, which had fluttered downwards, not even close to it’s mark. Still, it garnered Ronan’s attention, which is what Adam had wanted in the first place. “You sure like me an awful lot.” Adam mused, his ears red and face hot despite the surety of the question.

Instead of deflecting, Ronan looked at Adam with benevolent sincerity. “Yeah.”

Ronan still looked embarrassed, his face an unhealthy shade of red, occasionally scowling at the flower petals and Adam understood the weighty feeling of being bared so openly. He thought it’d only be fair to balance the scales.

“It was for me too." Adam murmured, Henrietta accent colouring every word, drawing out each syllable, "like this. I can’t dream a pile of flowers to prove it but it was.”

“Adam,” Ronan croaked but it meant so much more than Adam.

“I would've dreamed a million butterflies too.” Adam’s hand found Ronan’s, intertwining like they were _meant_ to, like their hands were created for the sole purpose of linking together. It was a series of breathless “oh, _there_ you are,” moments and Adam felt like he’d swallowed the world. It made him feel brave. “I’m all in this. If you are too."

“God Adam, like that’s even a fucking question,” Ronan breathed before pressing their lips together.

* * *

 

The fourth time they woke up with the bed blanketed in flower petals, this time an array of blues and greens and yellows, Adam looked over at Ronan, who still looked decently mortified as if this hadn't become somewhat of a routine, and sported a cheeky grin plastered on his face. A clutter of flower petals fell from Adam’s hair as he sat up, fluttering down to his lap.

  
“Again?” Adam asked. He tried to sound exasperated but he looked pretty fucking pleased.  


End file.
